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Chapter 3Arc 8: : Trail
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Chapter 5Arc 8: : Rearmed
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... e door, dressed monkishly in a brown robe tied with rope, a walking stick clutched in his burn-scarred fingers. He held a hunched posture, as though just the effort of getting himself outside and into that seat had wearied him. His gray beard hung almost to the snow.
“You should be resting,” I told him as I drew close.
Maxim grunted. “I’ve rested long enough. You’re leaving again soon?”
The old Alder Knight spoke with an odd dialect of the common speech. He was more than ...
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